Felled
by awkwardyeti
Summary: After the fall of Theramore, young Meriliah Forger is forced to leave her childhood home to start her journey into the world. Based on my rp character, Dame Meriliah Forger from the server, Moon Guard.


An account of Meriliah Forger

and her first journey

Story Written by: Meriliah, aka Angelica Fuchs

Setting and some events borrowed from Blizzard and I take no claim for them.

A note from the author:

It should be noted that I wrote this for fun, and that I have a bad habit of putting out first drafts and not editing. Any errors that are noted in this document should be addressed and I welcome critique and editing.

1

She stood at the ship's bow, looking down into the spray as the horns sounded, calling for the boat's departure. Goblins ran along the deck, bare feet slapping against the wood as they rushed to tie and untie various knots to ensure the mast caught the wind at just the right angle.

It would be a long trip, but Meriliah wasn't too worried. She'd managed to scrounge up enough silver to pay for her own provisions after helping to load a smith's work gear into the cargo hold. The smith had been kind enough to give her a green ribbon also after noting how she had to keep brushing her long hair out of her face each time she bent over to pick up another crate.

Meriliah had never considered that one day she would leave the shores she'd been born on. Sure, she knew most humans lived on the distant continent across the sea, commonly referred to as 'the Eastern Kingdoms', but she'd never seen herself there. The swamp of Dustwallow Marsh was all she knew. She'd never even been to Ratchet before today.

Gazing down at the spray, she scowled at the water. It was too sharp, too pure, compared to the still murk of the marsh. The marsh seemed so full of life. The sea was too vast, too wild. How could it hold any life? Of course, she knew that it did. Theramore had a port and she'd gone swimming among the ships. She'd seen small minnows and sharks roaming beneath the peer in the shallows.

"Bit young to be traveling on your own, aren't you?"

It was the smith again. Meriliah trusted most smiths without question. Smithing was an honest work, one her father had sought to teach her. The man was taller than her, something that surprised her, with the standard burly build of a workingman. He kept his blonde mane tied back in a braid like a dwarf, but his face was clean-shaven, likely to prevent any stray embers or ashes from setting it alight.

"I'm nearly of age," Meriliah retorted, pulling away from the bow, "though I thank you for the concern."

The man chuckled, "Strange how such fair words can bite. Still, doesn't surprise me. You don't look like you've had a decent meal or bath for that matter in a week, girl."

Meriliah shrugged, looking back out onto the ocean.

"Where are your parents? Did they send you away to a better life or did you run away?"

"Does it matter?" Meriliah snapped, wishing the smith would leave now.

"Of course it does. You refuse to look back at the shore, meaning you intend to never return. There's something you're leaving behind that you don't want to remember, or maybe you'd rather not look back because you don't want your last memory of home to be a sad one."

"What's a smith doing out here anyway? Aren't you supposed to be at a forge somewhere smelting metal and making weapons?"

"I make armor, lass. Much more important than spears or axes."

"Armor can't save anyone. A sharp enough spear can break through any metal."

The smith threw back his head, laughing, "Who told you that? Hah! You haven't seen my armor than."

"No one told me. I just had to open my eyes."

"Lass, there's more than one type of armor."

Meriliah frowned, looking back at the smith, "What do you mean?"

He shook his head, "It's a conversation for another day. I have to make sure all my materials are settled down below. Salt water corrodes metals, and even the strongest ship can get water down in the hull. Make sure you come down for dinner tonight. The captain invited all the guests and crew."

Meriliah nodded, returning to look out at the water. The smith lingered for a moment, before leaving, hands lightly clasped behind his back. The moment his footsteps faded, Meriliah looked back at the shoreline, forcing herself not to cry so she could catch that last glimpse of the dwindling shore.

2

The sea had thrown everything it had at the small ship as it traveled around the maelstrom and towards the harbor of Booty Bay. Meri stayed below deck the first few days at the request of the goblins. The slick wood above was too treacherous they claimed for anyone not used to the ocean's tantrums. After the first massive storm, Meriliah had to agree. She'd remained huddled in her cloak, hands over her head. She had been convinced that they would capsize at any moment as punishment for what she'd done. As the sea calmed and the sky became clear and bright once more, Meri found herself again wandering around the deck, staring down into the waters below. We only survived because the Light wouldn't be so cruel as to take down the whole ship just to drown one coward, she thought.

The smith was sitting on the deck as well. He was thinner than he had been when they first met and always tinged a slight shade of green. The ocean did not agree with him. He sat near the side, legs crossed before him, a small hatchet in his hands. He was working on sharpening the blade with a stone. Meri had seen him briefly working on the axe during the storm as well, carving dwarven runes into the handle and entwining vines that ran along the wood's grain.

"That was some storm, eh lass?" he asked, noticing her wandering towards the bow.

She merely nodded, looking down at him as he worked.

"What do you think, hm? I thought that carving baby's breath or day lilies into the hilt might be nice."

"Flowers on an axe?"

The smith nodded, "Aye. Flowers have meaning, you know." He paused, looking her over, "You look like a violet to me."

"That's a color." Meri said, sitting down across from him.

"Aye, but it's also a flower. Violets are a shy flower. They sit modestly, small and poised, but there's no hiding the bright flower that they are."

"You care a lot about flowers for a smith."

"My mother was a florist. There are many lessons to be learned from flowers."

"Like what?"

"Do you know what a tulip looks like?"

Meri shook her head.

"They look like this," he said, holding his hand aloft, palm up so his fingers came up and pinched together, "They come in many colors and bloom during the spring, just as winter is thawing. All the winter long they sit in these hard little seeds called 'bulbs' until the first showers of spring come and give them hope. They're quite a hardy flower."

Meriliah was silent for a while. The smith didn't seem to mind. He continued to carve the axe now, humming to himself.

"My mother was a scribe. She used to crush flowers and other things to make ink." Meri said quietly.

"I see…" he looked up from his work, eyes sad, "Was, you say."

"She fell…they all did."

"Not everyone died, you know."

Meri scowled, "Of course they did. Magic killed them. All that was left was a—"

"Was what?" the smith asked carefully.

"I'm not sure." Meri said quietly, looking down once more, her shoulders slumping forward, "I fled. I didn't look."

"If you didn't look, how do you know that everyone died? Maybe they're just hiding away until winter thaws like you are."

"I'm not hiding!" Meri said defensively, "Even hiding would be braver than running. At least if you hide, you intend to eventually show yourself and fight back."

"Only if you're brave enough to leave."

The smith handed Meri the axe, gently setting it into her palm, then wrapping each of her fingers around the handle.

"This is a gift, lass. You'll realize soon enough just how brave you already are. It takes courage to move forward day by day, knowing what you left behind. Take each day as a victory. You lived. If you still feel so ashamed of your own life, use it to pay back what you feel you owe."

3

Booty Bay looked like a tropical Ratchet as far as Meri was concerned. The air smelled odd, filled with the scents of new flowers and strange trees. She leaned over the rail, brows knit together as she watched the shore slowly creep towards her, beckoning her.

"You'll be fine, lass. Just keep that chin up."

Meri looked back at the smith, feeling her gut twist, "I'm scared."

Her voice cracked as she admitted it. Her hands began to tremble, and before she knew it, tears were trickling down her cheeks, washing away the dried up salt that speckled her face from the ocean spray. The smith pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her gently.

"Hey…now come on lass, where's crying going to get you? It's all right. Look how far you've come already."

"I hate it! I hate that I was too scared to go look for them. My mother, father…even Eli! After all the times Eli came for me I couldn't even go for him!"

Slowly, the smith pulled away, putting his hands on her shoulders, "Lass, it wasn't your fault. If you don't like how you were, or how you are, nip the bud. Become someone new."

Meri sniffed, wiping her eyes, "How?"

"What is your name?" he asked, taking out a small knife from his boot.

She stared at the blade, eyes widening, "M-Meriliah. Meriliah Forger."

"My kin used to cut their hair," he explained, "To symbolize rebirth, a new start, or the end of a chapter, just like cutting a bud on a tree to shape it and make it stronger."

Meri put her hand onto the Smith's, nodding.

It hurt. He sawed off her long wheat colored locks as gently as he could, but each time the knife began to cut away at the threads, she could feel it yank at her scalp. She bit her lip, watching as her hair fell away into the ocean below, swept away by the tide.

His work was not neat. Meri didn't need a mirror to know how bad it was. The ends just barely brushed her jaw line, roughly cut and uneven. It wasn't meant to be pretty though. It was a symbol.

As the boat reached the port, the smith put his knife away and made to go to the cargo hold.

"Wait! I never asked your name."

"Sir Emlyn the Smith," he replied over his shoulder, "It was good traveling with you, Meriliah Forger. Light bless."

Meriliah raised her hand in return, "Light bless."


End file.
